The Decision

So the doctor visited us this morning and basically said that Mom would not be going home. The carbon dioxide levels in her blood are high, etc.  The doctor said to give it one more day then, if the results are the same to opt for "Comfort Care".  After discussion between the three of us, we opted for "Comfort Care" and decided to start immediately.

CC is when they stop all the prescriptions, etc and basically make sure Mom is comfortable for the time she has left.  She's on a morphine drip and is no longer moaning, tossing, etc.  She's comfortable and sleeping.  It's weird being confronted with the decision, and although you know it's the right one, there's always someones eyes that make you re-think it.  A family friend came today and Dad had me explain the decision and to make sure she understood that Mom is dying. The friend kept saying things like, "she'll get better", etc. When talking to Mom, she'd say, "Open your eyes.  Who am I? Recognize me. You're going to get better, etc." It was like laying on a bunch of guilt